What Have You Done?
by Jersey13
Summary: Haunted by nightmares, Carson accompanies Colonel Sheppard's team to aid with trade negotiations, and earning the trust of the natives presents him with more trouble than he bargained for. GEN, Carson centric team fic. SEQUEL TO "What Have I Done?"
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

STORY TITLE: "What Have You Done?"

AUTHOR: Jersey13

RATING: T for Teen

WARNINGS: mild violence, some mind-control

SUMMARY: Haunted by nightmares, a mission to give aid to the people of a primitive world goes horribly awry for Dr. Carson Beckett. Having accompanied Colonel Sheppard's team to aid with trade negotiations, trying to earn the trust of the natives gives him more trouble than he bargained for.

STATUS: COMPLETE! (I've already finished writing this story, so have no fears about being left hanging for months. I will be posting a chapter about once a day, and there will be 7 chapters)

* * *

A/N: This fic is a sequel to "What Have I Done?", and both take place around late season 2. You shouldn't have much of a problem understanding what's going on if you haven't read the prequel, but it would probably add to the creepy atmosphere of the story and to the perceived mood of the team.

* * *

Visions of Laura Cadman haunted his dreams. It had been a long time since the physical traces of her infection by an alien organism had faded from her body, and he had long since forgiven her for hurting him. He had even begun to speak to her again, had forced himself not to feel sick with discomfort when she'd sat down at the lunch table with him yesterday. Of course, the commissary had been unusually busy that day with a delegation of foreign dignitaries visiting from another world, and so seating had been limited. Her voice had been sweet and kind when she had spoken to him.

They had talked of simple things; work, weather, co-workers, things of that sort. Laura smiled that tender, sweet smile that she had so often used before to melt his heart, and for a change, he had felt strong that day and did not wilt under her gaze like he had so many times before. He had even returned her smile before leaving the table, wondering neutrally whether or not the fact that he was starting to find himself able to relax in her presence again could have a deeper meaning.

But that night, he was plagued cruelly by those nightmares. He bolted upright in his bed, drenched in a film of cold sweat. He'd just dreamt that he'd been trapped in a small and shrinking space, trapped by that demon-like creature that he knew had possessed her, and he shook his head knowing that the memory of the nightmare would haunt him throughout the passing of the coming day. He rubbed at his eyes and stubbly face, hoping to distract himself, but there would be no going back to sleep this night.

He decided to get to the infirmary early, intent on properly preparing himself for the upcoming mission scheduled for that day. Reading the initial reports filed by Colonel John Sheppard's team, the natives of the planet they would be visiting today were peaceful and eager to trade, and he was being brought along as a token of good-will. It was usually a helpful trade practice to impress the benefits of forming trade agreements by demonstrating how useful you could be in a pinch. Their lives were simple and full, but the general health and well-being of those in their village had suffered in the past because of their general lack of practical medicine. They commonly chose to rely on their "gods" to cure them. Although noble in intention, he knew quite well that this kind of practice did not always end in a positive result and was happy to oblige them by showing off some of the simpler and more basic methods of medical treatment.

Carson all too soon found himself standing before the event horizon of the Stargate waiting to depart. Stargate travel often gave him the willies, and this time, as it usually happened, he was once again hit by a sudden eerie feeling of foreboding danger. He brushed off the sensation and replaced his lack of confidence with a practiced sense of professionalism, intent on not allowing the anxiety and fear of the unknown deter him from his duty to those people who were in need of his help. And those people definitely needed him.

Watching Colonel Sheppard step through the Stargate, followed in turn by each member of his team, Carson gathered up his courage about him, closed his eyes, and stepped forward. Upon arriving nearly instantaneously at their destination, he opened his eyes to find that the predominant color of the forest surrounding the Stargate was yellow. Even the grass beneath their feet was mostly yellow, only sparsely tinged with hints of green. The bark on the trees was a dirty yellow-brown, and even the soil itself, though dark and fertile, was interspersed and mixed with shades of yellow rocks, pebbles, and fallen leaves.

He looked up to see a fair-haired man approaching, both arms extended in what appeared to be the local equivalent of a greeting. His long, creamy-white robes contrasted greatly with the predominant yellow surrounding them, and Carson was already grateful for the novelty in color. One might expect that those living on a planet so dominated by a single color would tire of it quite quickly and expect that they would attempt to surround themselves with a different variety of colors. It seemed like a strangely surprising and refreshing change.

"Greetings!" the fair-haired man exclaimed good-naturedly, slowly lowering his arms and bringing his hands together, finally clasping them in front of him with a low bow. "Welcome to Tehyre!"

Colonel Sheppard smiled warmly, nodding his head and offering a slight bow. "Thank you for the kind welcome, Kij. We've returned to resume our trade talks."

Kij bowed again, not quite as deeply this time, and smiled genuinely. "And we are grateful for the opportunity. Have you brought this healer that you spoke of to us?"

"We certainly have," he said cheerily, clapping Carson on the back.

Carson looked back at him a bit strangely, but said nothing and smiled politely. "I'm Doctor Carson Beckett, an' I'd be glad to be of help."

"Excellent!" Kij said excitedly, his smile widening. "Please follow me, my friends. I shall take you to the village."

With a curt nod of agreement by Sheppard, they were off on a brisk stroll down a path that led away from the Stargate. Huts made of reeds and thick grasses mounted on short, stubby stilts appeared in the distance, and they surrounded a central space, in the very center of which stood a tall and worn stone statue carved in the figure of an imposing man holding his right hand outward as if to touch something. It faced the Stargate and seemed as if it was offering its protection and touch to the homes it stood among.

Kij noticed Carson gazing at the statue and decided to explain, speaking almost as if in sermon. "This statue is a personification of the embodiment of our Gods. We pray to them to protect the sanctity of our village, and we pray that they allow us to honor them in return with the goodness of our ways and worship."

He paused for a moment to allow Carson to take his time inspecting the statue, and when his curiosity was sated, they continued moving toward a much larger stilted structure on the other side of the village, well and far behind the statue. Made predominantly with wood, it was much larger than the huts that circled and radiated outward from the central statue. Kij had stopped in front of its large hinged doors, stooping low and reciting a whispered prayer before rising and holding the door open for the guests.

"This is our temple to the Gods," he explained softly, humbly. "We come here to pray and worship. Do your people also build temples to worship within?"

"We do," Sheppard said casually, nodding. "There are many temples on our homeworld, built by many different people who worship many different gods."

"I hope you will not take offense if I say that yours are a strange people," Kij said carefully with a smile. "On this world, there are no other gods but the ones we worship."

"I'm sure it must seem strange to you," Dr. Rodney McKay said, sounding slightly bored. "It's strange even to me. I've always leaned more towards agnosticism, personally."

"I see," Kij said with a nod, but it was not obvious how much that he understood. "This is also where the ill and injured come to request healing from the Gods."

Carson stepped forward expectantly. "If there are sick and injured here that need me, I'd best get straight to work. Where are they?"

"This way," Kij implored gratefully, motioning with his hand toward a door on the other side of the main room in which they stood.

Another statue, although a bit smaller, graced one wall, and ornately decorated tapestries were draped across the walls to either side. Carson followed Kij through the door and an adjoining hallway where he was shown to another room, dimly lit and full of people coughing and moaning in pain. With a grim frown, he wasted no time, and Kij left him to his careful ministrations.

* * *

Many hours passed seemingly in the blink of an eye. Colonel Sheppard and his team had long since finished the negotiating sessions, and Carson was nearly finished with the last patient that would accept treatment. Most of them had been happy to receive care from one who did the work of their Gods, but a stubborn few had politely declined his help, much to his frustration. He'd been concerned for one woman in particular who had refused, suspecting that she might have had a broken bone in her leg that had healed improperly, but she had staunchly refused him every time he'd asked to examine her. It was her choice, of course, but it still made him feel disconcerted.

With the last of his bandaging done, a few lessons in water purification explained, his surgical instrumentation sanitized, and the splinting and immobilization of broken and sprained limbs complete, Carson stretched out his back stiffly and left his patients to their rest. He was promptly led outside to Kij and Colonel Sheppard. Priests began to file inside behind them, keeping a respectful distance. Kij had arranged for them to stay in guest huts within the village overnight since dusk had come and gone hours ago, and although Carson was tired from the lack of sleep resultant from the previous night, he'd dutifully refrained from any complaints.

Before he led them away to retire in their guest huts, Kij stepped forward and bowed formally, and Carson had to catch himself quickly so as not to let out a sigh of disappointment at the delay. He was so tired, and all he wanted was just to go to sleep.

"If I may, I would like to extend an invitation to attend the purification ritual before retiring to rest," Kij asked politely, bowing again humbly. "We perform this ritual to cleanse us of our burdens and worries that would stay with us past the darkened world. You are not required to worship the Gods in order to partake in it, and we would be honored if you joined us."

"He means dreams," John explained for Carson's benefit, then turned to speak to the rest of his team. "They've been asking us ever since we got here, but I rarely have any dreams. What about all of you?"

"Me neither," Rodney said a little too quickly, but Kij did not seem to notice. "I never remember them."

Teyla spoke gingerly, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as the invitation brought memories of her dreams into mind. "I often remember my dreams, and I do recall having one last night."

All eyes turned toward Carson, and he shifted his feet uneasily. He seriously doubted that the ritual could truly help him. "Aye, I had dreams that could certainly use a good cleansing."

"Why don't you two go ahead then?" the Colonel suggested with exaggerated cheerfulness, deftly beginning to unfasten his tactical vest as Rodney slipped off into the darkness of his own hut, but Carson suspected that John was secretly enjoying the opportunity to delegate the responsibility of dealing with the Tehyrians to someone else for a while. "You'll have to let us know how it was."

"Very well," Teyla said in earnest, turning to Kij and bowing her head politely. "I would be honored to partake in your ritual this night."

And then everyone's gazes once again fell upon Carson, who gulped nervously, but tried not to show his discomfort. "Well… I suppose I'll go as long as it doesn't take too long. I've got an early morning to look forward to."

"It should not take long at all, Doctor." With a pleased smile, Kij led them back to the temple and seated them together on a bench toward the back.

People soon began to file inside and take seats, and a few priests kneeled before the statue in humble prayer while others prepared a couple of tables up front for the ritual. Carson squirmed on the hard bench in an effort to get comfortable; the seat had no back rest and could not be considered soft in the least. A glance over at Teyla accurately told him that she was just as uncomfortable, despite the fact that she tried to smile reassuringly back at him.

A few minutes later, nearly all the seats and benches in the temple were filled, and even the seat to Carson's other side was being occupied by a young brunette wearing simple, but fine clothing. She seemed only mildly interested in what was going on around them and even blushed slightly when he glanced over and smiled at her. But before he had a chance to open his mouth long enough to even ask her name, the lights began to dim and the crowd in the room fell into a respectful silence.

A priest then stood upon a platform in the front, and began a long oratory detailing how the people's true gods were good and all-knowing, and would always protect the village in times of peril. Carson found the insight into their culture interesting, but ultimately questioned whether or not the sheer blind faith that most of them placed in their gods taking care of them was truly well-place and deserved. No true gods that he'd ever known people to worship ever healed the sick or wounded, nor ever protected those who did not act to protect themselves. But still, he figured that there had to be a reason that they would rely on their gods. Perhaps these gods were different, and perhaps these 'gods' weren't really gods at all, in which case these people could be being taken advantage of.

Either way, Carson listened carefully to the sermon and remained determined to do what he could to render assistance when he was permitted. It was possible that if these people decided he had been sent to help them by their gods that they would permit him to help more, perhaps even treat those who had once refused and had instead chosen to rely on their faith to heal them. Thus, when the priests began to travel through the crowd to offer blessings, Carson decided he willing to give it a try.

The priest touring and blessing the section in which they sat moved slowly, and as he stopped to bless the woman to his side, a faint glow began to emanate from the roof of the temple for a moment, lighting the figure of the woman standing to be blessed with what almost looked like a halo, and then slowly faded. Carson looked around for some sort of trick, a light show of some kind, but none was apparent. The crowd and the priest fell into a reverent hush at the wondrous sight, as if it was a sign from their gods themselves, and then the priest beamed proudly.

"You have been chosen, my child!" he spoke softly with glee, folding his hands over one another and bowing politely. "Are you willing to participate in the final choosing ceremony?"

The woman seemed quite flattered and surprised, and eagerly accepted the offer with a curt nod. She was obviously happy and honored to have been chosen for whatever it was that she had been chosen for, so Carson smiled as the priest moved once more to bless him next. Once the priest motioned for him, he stood and waited patiently for the man to get it over with. But strangely enough, the odd light appeared again, surrounding him also with its soft glow. Looking around, Carson once again failed to find its mysterious source and attempted to appear surprised and humbled for the benefit of the crowd of people, despite his growing sense of unease at the whole situation.

"It seems you have also been chosen!" the priest spoke again softly, the shock and surprise apparent in his demeanor. "This is quite an honor! No stranger to this world has ever been chosen by the Gods before. Do you wish to participate in the final choosing ceremony?"

Carson wasn't quite certain how he should respond, but decided a simple inquiry shouldn't be construed as too rude. "I'm not sure what it involves. What would be required of me?"

The priest smiled understandingly. "The Ceremony of Choosing will occur immediately following this service here in the temple. It is the ritual during which the Gods choose the one whom they deem most worthy to serve the people. As a stranger to this world and one who is not of our covenant, please do not feel you are obligated to participate. But you have been deemed worthy of the ritual by the Gods themselves, and it is considered a great honor among us to be chosen. The choice is yours, and we will not be offended if you choose to decline."

That didn't really tell him what he needed to know. Serve the people in what manner? What did that mean? "I'm not sure I understand. Assumin' I accept this honor, does this mean that all those people who were refusing medical treatment from me will change their minds?"

The priest smiled at him warmly. "If you are the one chosen by the Gods, they will accept your assistance. If you are not chosen, the chosen one may grant you permission to assist."

Carson sighed, taking a quick moment to consider what other options he might have, but decided there were none. If he was going to get those people to trust him, they had to believe that he was acting under the direction of their gods. "Alright then, I'll participate."

"Excellent!" the priest exclaimed with a pleasant smile, but the man's apparent goodwill did not quite reassure him.

When the priest moved on, Carson sat back down and tried not to squirm with discomfort. He didn't know why he had such a bad feeling about what was to come, but he was prepared to do what he had to do in order to help these people. Or so he thought.


	2. Chapter 2: Darkness Falls

A/N: I've decided to post chapter 2 as well. Hopefully it will make my readers that much more eager for chapter 3. :)

* * *

Nearly an hour later as Carson thought Teyla was about to nod off, the sermon was finished and people began to file happily out of the temple into the night, ready to prepare for bed. Teyla yawned as she rose from her seat and began to make her way toward the exit, and Carson was suddenly and inexplicably more anxious than he had ever been before on this world.

Rising from his seat as well, he followed her for a few steps, a worried expression plaguing his normally soft features. "I'm not sure I want to be alone here when they do this ceremony thing."

She frowned and paused, but obviously did not share his concern. "If you are worried, Doctor, I will stay. But it is getting late, and I am sure everyone is tired. Surely they cannot mean you any harm by honoring you with this ceremony."

This made Carson feel foolish for bothering her enough to insist she stay when she was so tired, but her confidence still did not manage to put him at ease.

"You're probably right," he said, feigning confidence and a reassuring smile. She gave him an odd look. "It's alright, lass. Ye don't have to stay. I'm just a wee bit nervous, is all. You get some rest."

Reluctantly allowing her to be on her way, he bid her good night. These people were old men and priests, after all, and not even all that unlike the clerics and priests commonly seen on earth. They couldn't possibly mean any harm toward him with this, but strange rituals that didn't seem to make any sense always seemed to have a way of turning out badly these days.

She nodded and smiled back at him. As he watched her leave, he sat back down on the bench and tried to be patient until the priests told him what he needed to do. All he really wanted was just to get whatever it was he had to do over with and go to bed. Not that he really expected to get much sleep. In fact, he wasn't sure he really wanted to go to sleep, what with all the nightmares that had been tormenting him over the last few nights in particular. Anxiety didn't tend to make things better, no matter how harmless his fears often seemed to everyone else.

An old man approached him silently, nearly startling him from his reverie when the gnarled, aged hand touched his shoulder. "Are you ready for the ceremony?"

Mustering a smile that he hoped at least seemed polite, Carson stood and responded. "I suppose so. I just don't know what it is I'm supposed to do."

He chuckled softly and urged Carson forward towards the four others who had been chosen as well. "Do not be concerned, my young friend! You don't have to do anything. Simply allow the Gods to make their will known to us through you, and all will once again be well in this world."

Yet again, the true meaning of their words seemed to initially escape him. He could only assume that it involved receiving some different kind of blessing with which they believed he would be officially endorsed to do the work of their gods. It seemed a reasonable enough assumption, and so long as those foolish people who had refused him before changed their minds, it didn't much matter to him.

He followed suit with the four others as they kneeled and respectfully bowed their heads. Some kind of holy water was used to anoint their heads as a priest spoke in a language Carson had never heard before, but at least this sort of ritual seemed familiar and safe enough. It was when that same aura of light appeared again that he once more became confused. It had to be a trick, but they still fell for it. Who could possibly have some reason or ulterior motive to want him to be included in this ritual? Only someone truly desperate for his help would have bothered going through all the trouble needed to convince these people to trust him so. But whoever was behind it, Carson had no idea.

The old priest placed a gnarled hand on Carson's head and closed his eyes in prayer. "The Gods truly bless you this day, friend. It is you they have chosen to wield their power and influence. Are you prepared to undergo this most holy infusion in order to serve our people during the twelve days of _Juisai_, the holiday of holy service?"

"Twelve days?" Carson was humbled by their willingness to bestow this honorary status to someone like himself, a perfect stranger to their world, and was happy to oblige them with his service, even if it meant staying an extra week longer than Colonel Sheppard had originally planned. "Yes. I'm willin' to serve your people in whatever manner I'm able."

"The will of the Gods be done," the priests said in unison, their words echoing strangely within the temple walls, and the priest removed his hand from Carson's head. "The Ceremony of Choosing is complete. The vessel of the Gods is chosen, and the Infusion Ceremony will commence at dusk on the third day of _Juisai_, tomorrow."

As it now seemed that the ceremony was complete, Carson tried to be polite, returning the smiles offered and thanking the people who offered him congratulations for the great honor he was going to receive. When he was finally permitted to retire to the hut and bed that he and the rest of his team had been so kindly provided, he passed the others quietly. They were all already fast asleep, but he was too overcome with curiosity and anxiety about the ritual scheduled for tomorrow to join them quite yet.

* * *

When Carson woke, it was with a fearful jolt. He knew he'd just had those same nightmares that he'd had the previous night, but was not about to let it distract him from the task at hand. Pushing the horrific imagery from his mind, Carson rose from the comfort of the bed and prepared for the day. Once more, he was the last person to sleep and the first one awake, and he briefly pondered whether or not it would be a good idea to take a light sedative to sleep better the next night.

He also found it strange that when he'd gone to check on his patients from the previous day, he found that not one who had refused him before had changed their minds. He didn't really want to press the issue, but when he casually asked why they didn't trust him even after being blessed, one of the sickest women in the temple had reluctantly admitted that only after the Infusion Ceremony was complete would he truly be accepted as performing the work of their gods.

Silently cursing the foolishness of primitive people with strange notions about gods and medicine, Carson struggled to tolerate their stubbornness. In his mind, faith and science had always been two distinct and separate matters, and yet he could not fault these people for having such faith in their gods. There was a big difference between faith and ignorance, and he hated seeing people suffer because of either. God-like beings with the power to heal someone by faith alone, as good-intentioned as these beings might be, probably aren't really gods at all.

The Goa'uld and the Ori had conquered and mistreated countless people in such ways, and as powerful as they seemed, he'd be damned if he let beings posing as gods take advantage of these people. Encouraging them to live in ignorance and making them dependent on their gods for matters of medicine is more than any true god should ask of its people. But the strangest aspect of it all seemed to be how these people truly believed that their gods would heal them, as if it had been done before. They seemed to believe that he would be capable of working miracles once this ceremony was done, and he could only hope that he wasn't being set up to disappoint these people.

Time passed, patients came and went, then it was suddenly near dusk all too soon for Carson's comfort. A priest had come for him about an hour before the sun would set and asked him to follow. Carson tentatively complied and was led into the center of a circle in the middle of a stand of trees not too far outside of the temple. A crowd had begun to gather around the priests that had congregated there, and even Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney were walking over to join him.

"Hey, Doc," John greeted cheerfully, waving a hand at him as he came to a stop just outside the circle of priests. "Pretty popular with the locals these days, aren't you?"

Carson smiled and laughed nervously. "Ye have no idea, Colonel. I'm just hopin' that they'll finally let me do my job after this, but I think they want me to stay for a wee bit longer. I hope ye don't mind."

"I suppose we can manage a few more days in this place," he replied cheerily, rocking lightly on the balls of his feet. "I kind of like it here."

Rodney scowled irritably. "If only I shared your enthusiasm."

"What do you mean?" John asked curiously, his brows knitted together with confusion. "You don't trust them?"

"It's not that," Rodney recanted a bit. "I've just got a bad feeling about all this, that's all. Something just doesn't feel right."

"I don't trust them," Ronon admitted impassively. "They're hiding something. I'm just not sure what it is yet."

Teyla was hesitant with her own reply, but seemed more optimistic. "Dr. Beckett did express some reservations last night before I retired, but I did not sense any malice from these people. Do you believe he may be in danger after all?"

"I didn't say that," Rodney insisted defensively, but was interrupted by a priest's call for silence before he could continue.

Colonel Sheppard's team watched curiously, sharing some worried glances between them, but said nothing to prevent the ceremony from continuing. They attempted to remain upbeat, and Rodney almost snickered aloud when Carson was divested of his tactical vest and shirt by the priests.

"Remove the barriers between your heart and the gods' vision," the priest had said to him as his shirt was removed. The gesture was obviously symbolic, but Carson still felt a bit self-conscious, not to mention cold, especially when he caught Rodney's amused smile. Glaring at him with mock indignation, Carson nearly muttered a promise to make him regret it at his next physical as the priests slowly led him forward, murmuring a prayer in that foreign language as they moved.

And then they suddenly began to bind his wrists over his head and around the trunk of the nearest tree.

"What the…?" Blinking with confusion, Carson frowned and tried to request an explanation as politely as he could manage. "Please excuse my ignorance, but is this really necessary?"

But the priests continued their murmur of prayer without interruption, ignoring his plea. Carson looked around at the people watching close to panic, but tried very hard not to needlessly embarrass himself in case he really wasn't in any real danger. He was somewhat reassured upon seeing the same worried expression from Colonel Sheppard and took some comfort knowing that they were there and would not allow any harm to come to him. He struggled to keep control over his quickened breathing and racing heart as the priests and people gathered around knelt down in worshipful prostration.

That was when he began to feel a small tickle where his wrists were bound to the tree. Looking up, Carson could see something moving, something alive and nearly invisible, and whatever it was, it was moving along the trunk of the tree in faint lines toward him.

Silence overcame the crowd then, and the priests also fell silent, looking up from their prayers to watch the spectacle occurring before them. The older priest tried to reassure him, placing his hand lightly on Carson's shoulder before backing away. "Remain strong, son. The Gods will guide you safely through this. They have chosen your voice to be their own."

The lines of movement along the trunk of the tree were converging on the areas around his arms, and now he was beginning to feel an itch under the skin that was in contact with the tree. The priest's assurances did absolutely nothing to comfort him, and as Carson tested the rope that bound his wrists, he felt a sudden jolt, almost like electricity. Crying out with shock and surprise, he was about to call out for help from the Colonel when he saw movement from the corner of his peripheral vision.

John stepped forward, all about the air of command that he was accustomed to. "Alright, that's enough. Whatever it is you're doing to him, I want you stop right now."

No one moved to comply. When Ronon stepped forward, meaning to release Carson himself, a group of villagers rose to their feet and stepped in front of him defensively. Anger was etched on their faces.

"He agreed to participate in the final Ceremony of Choosing," one priest explained with annoyance. "You must allow the Gods to claim him. He was chosen!"

"And what exactly was he chosen for?" John insisted angrily. "What the hell is going on? What are these gods of yours going to do to him?"

The old priest sighed with exasperation. "He will embody the will of the Gods for twelve days so that they may serve the needs of the people through him. The Gods choose someone to serve during Juisai in this manner every season."

Carson screamed. Whatever it was, it was literally burrowing itself into the skin of his arms. He twisted and pulled against the rope holding him, but it was futile. The lines that had been moving along the trunk of the tree then began to move along his arms up to his shoulders, and then he really began to panic. It wasn't painful, but the sensation was tingly and began to burn a little, kind of like a bad itch, and it scared the hell out of him.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Carson yelled desperately, his voice tinged with fear. "Help me, please! Rodney, do somethin'!"

John's grip on his weapon tightened and he moved to answer Carson's call, but the priests and villagers refused to move aside. Ronon un-holstered his weapon and aimed for the nearest priest, glaring as if to dare him to make a move against him, but John was hopeful that this could still be resolved without having to resort to force.

"Our friend obviously didn't know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to participate," John reasoned firmly, lifting a hand from his weapon as a gesture of goodwill. "I apologize that we didn't understand before, but he doesn't want to participate any more. Please allow us to free him and we will leave in peace."

The old priest seemed perplexed and unconcerned, as if he did not comprehend why they would suddenly choose to leave when they had not been threatened. "I do not understand your reluctance. He will not be harmed, and the Gods keep their chosen ones for no more than twelve days. He has been chosen by them, and if he refuses now, there will be no other to take his place until next season. There are sick and injured people that require the Gods' powers of healing, and they will not survive until next season without the Gods' help. He must accept this honorable burden or people will die!"

John looked at them as if they had all gone insane. "So cure your sick and injured yourselves. You don't need to rely on these so-called gods to cure all your ailments. Allow us to free him, and we will help you!"

"How can we trust you to help us when you would deny us the proper worship of our Gods?" another priest shouted, sounding just as incredulous as John. "Our Gods love us enough to heal and protect us, and they demand nothing in return! Can you say the same for the Gods you worship?"

"We don't let false gods force us to serve or worship them, not for any length of time!"

The old priest was more than happy to continue arguing in the defense of his gods. "They force nothing upon us! We volunteer ourselves of our own free will. The Gods give their services and ask nothing in return!"

John was now outraged, and his team took up a protective stance around him, their weapons ready. "Carson would never have volunteered if you hadn't lied to get him to do this in the first place!"

The priest flinched with indignation. "We did no such thing! It is an honor among us to be chosen!"

Their argument was interrupted as Carson screamed again. The moving lines of living stuff from the tree were now traveling up his shoulders toward his neck, despite his struggling. John leapt into action and attempted to shove his way through the wall of villagers and priests, but the men in the crowd were quick and strong from their work of manual labor. They grabbed for their weapons, oblivious to the danger they were putting themselves into, and despite even Ronon's best efforts to keep his weapon trained on someone, he'd been overpowered by at least eight villagers all trying to tackle him at once.

Colonel Sheppard's team could not bring themselves to hurt these people, however deluded they were. When all was said and done, ropes were binding the wrists of Colonel Sheppard and the rest of his team, and they were forced to walk back to the rooms their hosts had provided for them. Carson had fallen unconscious and was hanging limply from his bindings when the villagers finally moved to cut him free. The last glimpse of Carson that John caught was of him being carried back into the temple.


	3. Chapter 3: Awakening

A/N: Sorry that this is a little bit shorder than the first two chapters, but trust me, it's worth the wait. :) This is where the fun really begins.

* * *

When Carson finally managed to pry his eyes open, how he'd come to be lying on his back in the middle of an empty room in the temple, shirtless even, escaped him. Upon attempting to rub the fatigue from his eyes, though, he found the strength required for moving his hands excruciatingly taxing, and even the act of blinking his eyes was slow and sluggish to respond. Every muscle in his arms, shoulders, back, and neck pulsed with a combination of soreness and tingling sensations that he'd never felt before in his life.

Not only that, but his head felt numb and clouded, as if it were stuffed with wads of cotton. Carson could barely think straight much less remember what had happened the evening before. It was all a magnificently ignorant blur that he didn't really care to recall any more. He was then suddenly aware of voices whispering around him.

"He's waking," one voice whispered softly. "Go and fetch whoever is still here."

Carson heard footsteps echoing through the small room and forced his eyelids open. His eyes slowly focused on the silhouette kneeling at his side, and he recognized the man as a priest from the temple, but did not know his name. His jaw and lips responded even more sluggishly than his eyes, and as hard as he tried, he could not manage to form the words to ask where he was and how he got there.

"It is alright, Master," the priest reassured him softly. "You are still weakened. There is no need for you to speak yet. Rest and recover yourself until you feel better."

Despite not being able to remember what had gone on the night before, Carson was strangely calm and at peace. When another priest hurriedly entered the room and came over to examine him, he thought he recognized the man, almost sure of it in fact, but no memories surfaced in his mind of ever having spoken with him before. As he knelt down next to him, Carson watched numbly with confusion.

"Master," the new priest began hesitantly, but seemed concerned somehow when he paused slightly. "Do you recognize me?"

He wasn't quite sure how to respond to the question, and wasn't sure how it was possible, but he did recognize him from somewhere. Carson managed a small, weak nod.

Some of the priest's fears seemed to be quelled with the response, and he smiled warmly. "Let's help him sit up."

They both helped to pull Carson up into a sitting position, but as he leaned back against the wall weakly, he caught sight of his hands and stomach. Strange lines decorated his skin, and although a part of him thought nothing of it, a different part of him was frightened by it. Slowly lifting his arms, he saw the lines sprawled across the backs of his hands and wrists and gazed down at them curiously. Then he remembered seeing those same lines on the tree the night before… the same one he'd been tied to.

Upon the return of these memories, he felt an overpowering urge to run away in fear, but a strong force held him in its grip, steeling him against his rising panic. There was no escaping it; it was already in his head, and whatever it was had already done whatever it had wanted with him. He felt his jaw clench, his lips parted, and his voice began to form words that were not of his own mind. It frightened him beyond all reason, and he did not know why his body was now refusing to obey his will at all.

"Nalim," he felt himself speak very softly. He had not known the priest's name, but somehow his lips had spoken it anyway. "Why is my host afraid? I… I cannot…"

"Please, Master," the priest pleaded, his voice flecked with concern. "You are still weakened and must recover yourself. Your chosen one was a stranger to this world, and he only claimed to not understand what he volunteered for until after the ceremony was already underway."

Carson felt his face contort with confusion as his gaze fell upon the priest, and his voice was eerily devoid of any of the Scottish nuances that he was accustomed to speaking with; his voice sounded so alien to his own ears. "You disappoint us, Nalim. You allowed a stranger to undergo the Ceremony of Choosing without offering full knowledge of what we intended to do with him?"

"Well, I… uh…" The priest stammered with surprise at the accusation.

"We must return to the forest to free him immediately." Carson felt whatever entity that was controlling him attempt to pull him onto his feet, but the two priests were insistent as they stood over him protectively.

"You must not push yourself too soon!" the older priest shouted, almost lost with panic. "You must rest first, and then there are people who are in desperate need of your help."

"They will simply have to wait until next season," Carson's voice insisted angrily.

The priest immediately fell to his knees, his head bowed. "I will gladly accept responsibility for this mistake, Master, but you must help them! There are several who will not survive that long!"

As much as Carson hated the position he had been unwittingly forced into, the doctor within him could not allow others to suffer when there was something he could do about it. This was the position of respect and confidence that he had desired from these people, after all, even if he had not been told about this part of their little 'deal'. Carson sighed in resignation, and for some reason, the entity that was in control of him seemed to respect his decision. "Very well, but once we have done what we can, we insist on returning to the forest immediately."

The priest was still close to the verge of panic, but his initial outburst of fear had lessened to an extent. Carson's curiosity and suspicion was piqued by this suspicious behavior, but so much was going on both inside and outside his head at the moment that he didn't much care. All he really wanted was just for it to be all over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

Normally, not much can be planned without using words, but John was determined to make this escape attempt work. Anything they spoke out loud would certainly be heard by whoever was guarding the door, and so he'd been trying to lay out a plan to the rest of his team using hand signals. The only one who didn't seem to be following completely was Rodney, who kept shaking his head with confusion and displaying looks of utter incredulousness.

What John wanted to do was to smack him upside the head, but instead went over the plan once more, trying to silently mouth the parts Dr. McKay seemed to have the most trouble comprehending. Moments after, he was standing close to the door, listening carefully for any movement beyond. When it was apparent that the immediate vicinity was relatively quiet, he and Ronon together used their full weight against the door, which promptly splintered apart. Teyla picked a shard of wood that looked relatively similar to the fighting sticks that she was accustomed to wielding, and used it to dispatch the guard relatively easily.

A few moments later, they were silently sneaking their way back to the temple, eager and ready to do whatever they had to do in order to save Dr. Beckett from the cruel fate the villagers had subjected him to. Little did they know as they entered the temple and saw him up and about, working to heal the sick an injured that had been collecting there, that he had not been expecting them to burst in, knock out the priests accompanying him with a couple of well-placed punches, and then grab him.

"What the bloody hell are ye doin'?" he protested weakly, trying to pull himself from their grasp. "I cannae leave yet!"

John clamped his hand over Carson's mouth, shushing him firmly as they searched for their weapons; they were only able to find Ronon's blaster, then made a break for the Stargate. He whispered an explanation as they ran. "Just keep your mouth shut for a little longer, Doc. We're gonna get you out of this place, but we need to move fast."

"Ye don't understand!" Carson insisted, and began thrashing in an attempt to free himself. "I need to—"

John and Ronon now practically had to carry him. The Stargate was just ahead, and Teyla attempted to help subdue him. "Carson, you must remain calm. We must get you back to the Stargate before we are seen!"

But Carson would not stop struggling. "No, please stop! Ye have to let me explain! This isn't what ye think! They need my help!"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Carson? After what they did to you, I don't give a damn what those idiots want, and I don't care what they think they need from you!" But Carson would not stop struggling. With a frustrated nod to Ronon, his stunner was fired and Carson went limp in their grip. "Sorry, Doc, but we really don't have time for this. We're getting out of here right now."

A moment later, Rodney had dialed the Stargate, and a wormhole that would lead them back to Atlantis was open. Without another word, John punched in his IDC code and led his team through without looking back at the villagers running toward them in the distance. That place would soon be just a bad memory best forgotten.

Lt. Laura Cadman was one of the security personnel on duty in the control tower when she heard Dr. Weir call for a medical team. Mostly out of sheer curiosity, she escorted the medical team into the control room. Upon seeing Carson being pulled onto the gurney, she was momentarily hit by a wave of shock at seeing him in this condition as he was brought in. The marks sprawled across his skin brought back memories from months ago when those same marks had appeared on her.

Panic began to well up within her as the medics checked his vitals. "Don't touch him! Those marks… He probably become dangerous. Make sure he's firmly restrained when you get him to the infirmary."

"Lieutenant," Dr. Weir asked curiously. "What's going on?"

"Look at him, Ma'am," Laura pointed out firmly, pointing at Carson warily. "That doesn't seem familiar at all to you?"

"We weren't sure what exactly that they did to him," John remarked softly as he stepped over to stand at Dr. Weir's side. "I couldn't really see what was going on when it happened. There were too many people grabbing for our weapons."

But Laura was positive and gritted her teeth together as she spoke. "I had the same marks on my skin for nearly two months, even after I was cured. There's no doubt in my mind that this is the same organism that infected me before. Carson is in serious danger, and now so are we. We need to restrain him, right now, before it's too late."


	4. Chapter 4: Deceipt

A/N: I figure that since SGA has been cancelled, there are probably a lot fewer readers out there than there once were, and thus, fewer reviewers. So as a thank-you to my readers and the only reviewer thus far (thanks Deana :), I've decided to just go ahead and put up the rest of my fic now. No real point in waiting, I suppose.

* * *

Carson woke to an incessant ringing in his ears, and when he attempted to bring up a hand to wiggle a finger in his ear to relieve the sensation, he found himself unable to do so. His hands were pinned down at his sides, and his chest and ankles had also been secured to the bed he lay on. Managing to slowly pry his eyes open, he looked around and found that he was restrained to a bed in the infirmary. At first he wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but the memory of being forcefully dragged back toward the Stargate by Colonel Sheppard and his team came back to him more quickly this time.

There was no one else in the small, isolated room that he was being kept in, but he could see the vague outline of a guard beyond the doorway, and saw what he was sure was a one-way mirror that had been installed rather high on the wall across from where he laid. He knew it was more than likely that he'd been placed in this room simply so that he could be safely observed from there, but he also knew that it shouldn't have been necessary unless they believed he was dangerous.

"Colonel Sheppard? Rodney?" he tried to call out to whoever might have been watching, but his voice was hoarse and cracked. "Anybody, I need to talk to someone!"

Willing himself to relax, Carson tried to remain patient. He trusted that his friends wouldn't harm him, but what could they have thought restraining him would accomplish? It's not like he had any intention of harming anyone. With just a simple inquiry, he could have told them that much himself.

Footsteps echoed through the adjoining hallway, and within moments, Colonel Sheppard appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Doc. How're you feeling?"

"A wee bit confused perhaps," he admitted honestly, tugging at the restraints to make his point. "Is it really necessary to restrain me?"

"We thought it best to take some precautions, just in case," John said casually, hiding his emotions behind a mask of well-practiced and rigid military training.

"Why? What's the point of restrainin' me unless you really believe I might harm someone?"

John folded his arms across his chest, but did not show any hint of guilt or regret. "Would you?"

"O' course not! Why would I?"

"You tell me. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

Carson looked down at himself incredulously, not quite understanding what point John was trying to make. "This… this is nothin' to worry about."

John glared at him suspiciously. "Is that so? Lt. Cadman saw you in the control room. We've done some tests and confirmed her suspicions. As it just so happens, she believes otherwise, and I tend to agree."

Carson's face contorted with guilt. He hadn't wanted to frighten her, or anyone else for that matter. "Ye don't understand. I was tryin' to help those people when ye dragged me away, that's all! I don't see how ye could possibly believe otherwise!"

"Let's cut the crap," John said firmly as he leaned over on his knuckles against the table next to Carson's bed with frustration. "We know perfectly well that you're not Carson, and pretending that nothing at all has happened is not going to work. Now, I want to know what you wanted with Carson, and you're going to tell me right now."

Carson was beginning to feel the entity's frustration growing, and it was frightening him. "Or what, you'll kill me? That's hardly a threat."

"As a matter of fact, Rodney's working on another radiation device as we speak. We've encountered your kind before, and we know how to cure our friend. It's just a matter of time."

His face went pale with shock and fear. "But we've done nothin' to ye. We've never wanted anythin' except just to help people. That's the truth!"

John's questioning was getting him nowhere fast. "Carson's mind was violated."

"He volunteered!"

"They didn't tell him!"

His voice faltered, his Scottish brogue fading away completely. "We didn't know that, and if an apology will fix this, we're sorry! But we can't change the fact that it happened, and those people needed us. We were going to free him when it was done."

"So do it now," John growled. His patience was wearing thin.

"There's nowhere for us to go. We'd die here! That's why you must allow us to go back home."

"If you do it now, we'd be more than happy to send you back."

Carson scoffed disbelievingly. "We've no guarantee that you'd keep your word."

"That's my offer. Take it or leave it. Rest assured, though, that if you don't take it, we intend to kill you. The choice is yours."

Without another word, John strode determinedly from the room into the midst of a medical team dressed in hazmat suits. Carson could hear him making a report beyond the doorway, probably to Dr. Weir, but it didn't really matter. He shuddered inwardly and knew that the entity within him wasn't convinced, was too terrified for its own survival to give his body up and trust Colonel Sheppard to keep his word. In Carson's own mind, he knew that John would've kept his word and held up his end of his deal, but the entity knew that with this weapon, John was capable of returning to the planet and annihilating them all.

Carson knew then that the entity didn't want that to become a possibility, and knowing what Laura had done, the entity could very well find a way to destroy Atlantis. He would be the key to it, and this frightened him more than anything else. Carson began to wish that his friends had simply left him behind.

* * *

The entity within Carson tried to be patient. He could sense it even clearer now than before. John had come back a couple of times hoping to convince it to leave Carson's body peacefully, but each time their conversation ended at an impasse with John threatening to use the device and the entity staunchly insisting that it be returned to the planet. Neither would budge, and as Carson could only watch helplessly, he became more and more worried. Then on the following day, John came and left once more without saying a word, leaving him alone to wonder how much longer he'd be stuck there restrained to a bed. It was only a short time later, though, that more footsteps began to echo along the hallway outside the doorway.

The entity had long since grown frustrated by talking to John, which had been like talking to a brick wall for the most part. But when he turned his head to look, it was not John who had come to see him again; it was Laura. She stood next to him silently for several moments, looking down at him with an unreadable, blank expression.

"Don't worry, Carson," she said softly after a few minutes of silence had passed. "The device McKay is building is almost finished. It should only be a few more hours until you're free. I just… I know you can hear me. I know what you're going through, and you're going to make it through this. Just hold on."

The entity pitied her, and pitied him enough to allow him to speak. But he was still bitter. "Just what is it ye think ye understand exactly? It doesn't seem to me like any of ye understand at all."

"You're not going to convince me to help you," she spat firmly, her face still as impassive as stone.

Carson sighed sadly and turned his head away. "I don't want ye to."

Something in the tone of Carson's voice sparked the barest hint of pity within her, and she looked down at herself, the memory of her own experience not long ago nearly overwhelming her. If the organism that had infected her before hadn't been utterly bent on the destruction of Atlantis, it might not have been such a horrific experience. Something seemed different about what was happening to Carson, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. She tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on his, and he looked back at her with sorrowful eyes as only Carson could manage.

"You'll be alright," she whispered softly, and she meant it like a promise.

But as she attempted to pull her hand away, his expression changed, and he held on to her with a death grip. His breath came in harsh gasps and his brows knitted together with confusion. With a whimper of fear, he shifted and pulled against his restraints.

Laura was confused, unsure of what had prompted this reaction. "Carson? What's wrong? What's happening?"

At first, Carson wasn't sure himself what was wrong. That is, until he began to see it himself. The entity within him could see something, a kind of memory almost like a flashback, and his body was reacting to it with panic. Images of Laura formed in his mind, scenes of her seeking revenge for countless millennia of imprisonment, using him to plant bombs, being chased by Colonel Sheppard, being shot, and the organism that had been within her dying in a bright wave of red radiation from a device that McKay had built. It was more than the entity hiding within his own body could bear to witness.

Carson felt himself cry out in terror, his eyes clenching shut against it. He didn't want to see what she had experienced. It had been hard enough just living with the fact that the organism that had infected her had hurt him and used him to kill people, and he really didn't want to feel guiltier about that than he already did. The entity within him writhed in his mind, roiling with terror and fear, and he felt his wrists pulling against the restraints with inhuman strength. They eventually broke under the strain. Within moments, the restraints on his chest and ankles had been ripped off and he was teetering with dizziness, backing away fearfully towards the door and nearly tripping over his own feet with panic.

"Hey!" exclaimed one the guards at the door, but as he tried to grab Carson, he was flung back into the corridor wall with such force that the guard lost consciousness.

The other guard stood there frozen for a moment, then turned and ran to get help. Carson did not move to stop him; the entity in control of him was more concerned with simply finding a way out of the city at the moment. A glance back at Laura saw her using her radio to inform Colonel Sheppard of the escape in progress, and without bothering to stop her, he took off down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him. He felt the entity prodding him for ideas, for anything that might save its very existence, but he wasn't inclined to offer much assistance. As much as Laura had hurt him before, he regretted frightening her and wondered if she had felt the same way after her own ordeal.

Carson's mind was slowly being overwhelmed by a haze of emotions, most not even his own. Fear, terror, and deranged panic had driven him to hide in storage closets, run through countless numbers of corridors, and run through the deepest, darkest, wettest parts of the city to find places to hide from the life signs sensors. The entity desperately sought a means of escape, but Carson knew there would be none. Not even the jumper bay would be of any help; they were too far from any neighboring star systems, the mainland was deserted, and the city was floating in the middle of the ocean. Where could he possibly go that the sensors of the city and the expedition's search parties would not find him?

There was only one answer, and Carson was forced to reluctantly acknowledge that the Stargate would be the only means of escape. It wasn't that he really disliked the idea of sharing his body, but that he'd been tricked into agreeing to this. If Colonel Sheppard's team had escaped just a few minutes later, this whole situation might even have been averted. He didn't really believe that this organism that infected him truly meant to harm anyone. In fact, he was inclined to believe exactly what it had told them, and he did believe that it had only wanted to help. But after their previous experience where another just like this entity had attempted to destroy the city to exact revenge on the Ancients, who among them would truly trust that it meant no harm, especially after Carson had been coerced into this without being told the truth?

The entity was too terrified to listen to reason, though, and his entire body trembled with grief and fear. He was also terrified, exhausted, and alone, but Carson couldn't help but wonder why this entity that held him in its grip of fear felt such a strong sense of dread or why it truly believed that Colonel Sheppard would go to their world and destroy every last trace of their kind. The only thing the entity seemed to take comfort in was the fact that so long as they were chasing him in the city, it would delay them from destroying the others. Carson felt its thought processes pondering the idea of destroying the city, and he tried make his revulsion at the idea known.

But it was desperate.


	5. Chapter 5: Friends in Need

When Carson saw the name-plate that read "#209 - Cadman, Lt. Laura", if he'd had any conscious control over his body whatsoever, he'd have begun trembling. Even as he watched his hand press the notification button, he knew what reaction his presence would illicit from her and he was positive that it would frighten him as much as her. He'd begged the entity not to do it, begged it not to destroy the city, begged to give itself up, but it would not listen. It did not believe that it would get out of the city alive, and so it had nothing to lose.

The door opened, and Laura greeted him with an expression of shock and fear, just as he'd expected. He did not expect her to be armed, but it was not much of a concern to the entity controlling him. He felt the sudden sharp pain as she carefully aimed and fired her weapon into his chest, and even though it did hurt, the pain faded slowly with each breath he drew. Before he could even protest, his hands reached out for her.

He hardly felt the blow from the second shot as he grabbed her, forcing his fingers against the temples of her forehead as she clawed at him. Slowly, as she lost the ability to fight him, she began to relax in his grip.

"It's alright, lass," he assured her softly, loosening his grip on her a bit. "I'm not goin' to hurt ye. I just need yer help."

She simply stared up at him with dark, blank eyes, unable to respond, and Carson felt so sorry for her that he nearly cried despite the entity's hold on him. He'd just done to her what the other entity had done to him, and he felt horrified with himself for allowing it to happen. His body tensed, and with all the effort he could muster, he tried to force himself to leave her quarters before it was too late. But the entity's influence was too strong, and although he knew it was wrong, he wanted her… he needed her. It was all too apparent to him now what she had gone through, apparent how callous he'd been toward her afterward, and he wanted nothing more than to send away her fears and worries.

Carson slowly leaned in for a kiss, brushing his thumb against her cheeks and pushing back a stray strand of her hair. "I care for ye so much, Laura. I always have. I'm so sorry that I hurt ye."

Her lips felt warm and full against his, despite the heartache he felt knowing that she would have shied away from his touch if she'd been able to. He also knew that it wasn't likely that she believed him, but Carson fought against the desires that were pressing on him, seemingly magnified somehow by the entity, and sighed inwardly with relief as his hand slowly fell away from her face. Shame filled his core at what he'd just done. He wanted to apologize, to say something to reassure her, but the entity was in a hurry to keep moving, desiring to stay at least one step ahead of the people searching for him.

No apologies formed on his lips, though. "I need explosives, Laura. I want you to bring me some, enough to destroy the ZPM and the power control room."

He watched her go. It was only a few minutes later that she returned, explosives in hand. The entity was tempted to ask for her help again, but Carson wouldn't hear of it, insisting that if the entity was going to destroy Atlantis, it was best not to involve her in it. He was somewhat surprised when the entity did not object, and instead simply left her behind in her quarters. The trance-like state would eventually wear off, but he supposed not before whatever plan the entity had was well under way.

Within moments, he was safely hidden away in a section of the city that was devoid of sensor coverage. Dropping the explosives carelessly into the water pooled on the floor, Carson practically collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor in exhaustion. Carefully probing his chest with his fingers, he found that the bullet wound, which would have been a very serious injury to a normal human, had nearly faded away and was almost completely healed over. All that was left was a small scar.

But the injury, despite the effortlessness with which the entity had healed him, had been serious and had taken quite a bit of the entity's strength to heal. Both organism and host were exhausted, and together they fell into a troubled, restless sleep.

* * *

He had no idea what time it was when he was awakened by the sound of footsteps echoing just a corridor or two away from where he was hidden. His heart began to race as he realized that a search party was near, but as he waited and listened, the footsteps grew more and more faint and then finally disappeared altogether. With a sigh of fatigue, Carson pulled himself to his feet. He gazed down at the blocks of C4 explosive that lay at his feet, seemingly lost in thought, and then began walking toward the control tower without bothering to pick them up.

Carson was surprised, but wary. The entity's thoughts and feelings seemed much clearer inside his head than they ever had before, but he still didn't understand it._ 'If you're not goin' to destroy the city with explosives, how do ye intend to do it then?'_

He hadn't really expected an answer, but one came forth, just as unexpected as the apparent abandonment of the explosives. It was tinged with both annoyance and sadness. _We don't want to destroy the city. Doing so would serve no purpose to us._

Shock struck Carson into silence for some time before he asked the next question. _'I don't understand. Why ask Laura to fetch explosives if ye never intended to use them?'_

The entity's response was calm and composed, but touched with a hint of sadness. _What is it you do not understand? We heal and save lives just as you do. We have no desire to take those lives away, and would not desire to do so in either vengeance or anger. We will leave this place, and we would still free you to return to your people, if that is your wish. We have suffered before, and your kind will not succeed in destroying us this time._

Carson was confused and unsure sure whether or not he wanted the answer to his last question. _'This time? What happened before?'_

An image of a time capsule like the one that Rodney and Laura had found on that planet some number of months ago replayed in his mind. The device of obvious Ancient design was broken somehow, shattered, falling apart, and covered with layers of dirt and moss from centuries upon centuries of exposure to the harsh environment of a forest.

_We are all that is left._

Images of the Ancients, ignorant of the pain and suffering they caused as they used their 'cure', appeared in his mind, and the images of death and destruction at their hands nearly drove him mad. The Ancients had destroyed them and the people that tried to defend them as if they were a pestilence to the universe, a disease to be cured and wiped out. The entity had been divided into those who hated and those who feared the fate the Ancients promised them all.

Anger welled up within Carson, not only from the entity, but also from himself. These creatures didn't desire to hurt anyone, and yet the Ancients wiped them out anyway as if they were nothing more than a plague that needed to be eradicated. It was no wonder that the other organism that had infected Laura had been driven completely insane bottled up in a containment capsule for countless millennia. Carson was horrified beyond words and said nothing more, even after he had arrived at the control room. Only Dr. Weir and a couple of technicians were there; the others had been sent out to search for Carson or to help guard the power room. The control tower was virtually empty, just as the entity had intended.

With just a few flicks of his wrist, both technicians manning the consoles in the control tower had been rendered unconscious, and Dr. Weir watched helplessly as he punched the address that would take the entity home into the dialing console. She didn't even need to see the address to know where he intended to go.

"Carson, there's no need for this," she said softly as she matched his steps, but she did not make a move to stop him as he began to stride down the steps toward the activated wormhole in the Stargate.

He was driven now by anger, and as much as he wanted to trust them to do the right thing, he did not chance looking back at her.

"Please, stop!" she begged desperately. "Damn it, Carson, fight! Fight this thing! If you don't, the bombs are going to kill us all this time!"

The desperation in her voice burdened him with intense guilt, and so he stopped to gaze back at her sadly. "I've planted no bombs, Elizabeth. I only let Laura believe that so the control room would be relatively deserted when I managed to get here. It seems like my plan is workin' well enough so far."

"You… you didn't plant any bombs?" Dr. Weir stammered with astonishment, stopping in her tracks with confusion and surprise etched on her face.

Without hesitation, Carson turned back to the Stargate and stepped through.

He nearly lost his footing on the other side. The Stargate's pedestal was covered with layers of wet ash and splinters of charred wood, and the air was thick with smoke and particles of soot. The entire forest around him was almost completely gone, and all that remained were the charred remains of old-growth trees and the crumbling, blackened stumps of younger trees. A thick haze of wafting tendrils of smoke polluted the air, and if not for the entity that protected him, Carson would have been concerned for his lungs.

The short walk to the village, or rather to the place where it had once been, was uneventful and eerily quiet, and Carson could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Every home, the temple, and even the statue in the center had been burnt to the ground. The charred remains of wooden beams and burnt bricks and mortar littered the ground, and not blade of grass had been left unscorched. Looking up at the sky, it was difficult to be positive, but Carson was fairly sure that the sun had just risen.

He was utterly alone among the ruined remains of the village. At least, he had thought so up until the unhurried shuffling of many feet began to echo in the stillness of the forest around him. Carson looked up into the grimy, but living faces of the villagers and audibly sighed with relief. They were alive, and they hadn't all died in the fire.

"What… What happened here?" he asked breathlessly, turning to face the dirty bunch of villagers.

Several priests pushed their way to the front of the crowd, all of whom looked quite angry.

"You!" one of them exclaimed. "Are you responsible for this?"

Carson was taken aback with shock. "Me? O' course not! What reason could I possibly have to burn your village tae the ground?"

"Your people took you from us, and then many died attempting to hold the fire at bay while most of the women and children escaped to the caves in the north! If you are not responsible, it can only be the others from your world."

A murmur of agreement passed through the mob of villagers, and Carson began to wonder if they might decide to do something drastic. When the priest he'd seen before pressed forward angrily, shoving his brethren aside, his worst fears were confirmed as the glint of a dagger glinted in the meager sunlight that had managed to break through the haze of smoke. It was the priest whose name he'd somehow known, Nalim, and he held the dagger high, ready to plunge it into Carson's chest!

Carson grabbed for the dagger, and as Nalim pushed it toward his heart as hard as he could, he shoved back. The older man reeked of the stench of alcohol and had dark rings of exhaustion around his eyes. Carson managed to wrest the dagger from his attacker's hands with only a small tear in the fabric of his clothing. Two other priests came to their senses quickly enough to keep Nalim from recklessly throwing himself at Carson again, but did not seem surprised in the least by the attack. It made him nervous.

"Nalim, do not risk yourself further," one of the priests insisted softly in an attempt to calm him. "Even if his people are responsible for your wife's death, they might take revenge on us for killing him. We are in no position to win a war against them."

The other priest was not as angry as he was grief-stricken, and sank to his knees to cry into the scorched grass that was muddy with ash. "Both of my sons are dead, the temple is burned to the ground, and the Gods have abandoned us! I don't know why you would do this to us, Stranger, but I beg you to leave us in peace."

It was with those words that it truly hit him. The sounds of the forest were gone. It was utterly silent, and the comforting presence of the others, other entities like the one inside him that lived in the forest, were still gone even after returning to the planet. Were all of them destroyed by the fire? Was it really possible that they were all now dead?

"I didn't… I swear I'm not responsible for this." Feeling as if a large pit had formed in his stomach, Carson slowly backed away, shaking and overwrought with fear and grief.

"If you are not guilty of anything, why do you tremble before us in fear?" the overwrought priest asked angrily, gazing at him sternly as if to dare him to run away, then shifted his gaze downward in an effort to control his rage. "You denied the Gods, and now they have forsaken us! The village is no more! What will we do now without their guidance?"

Carson felt the burn of tears threatening to spill, and it was still strange to him to know that they might not have been his own. He felt the shame of rejection from the entity within him and was overcome by its fear, grief, and sadness. Memories of the long-ago past surfaced and flowed like leaves down a gushing stream through his mind, memories of being hunted and destroyed like vermin by the Ancients.

What good would it do to lash out at these people in anger? It was best to move on and make a new life somewhere else, perhaps on an uninhabited planet where its presence would not disturb anyone. So long as it was still alive, there was still hope.

Carson sighed, turned his back on the village, and then slowly and silently began to walk back toward the Stargate. The villagers silently watched him go, and a few women toward the back of the crowd began to cry for their lost loved ones. As hard as he tried, he could not hide the trembling that the heartrending sounds caused, knowing that his presence might have prevented it.

Overwhelming silence seemed to engulf him in the deadness of the forest. For several minutes, the crunching of his footfalls through the scorched grass and vegetation were all he could hear, and he was glad of it. He didn't remember ever feeling quite so distraught over being dismissed by people that he cared about before, but realized that the sensation might have been different now because of the entity. It was starting to feel like a part of him, and he'd almost forgotten that it was there.

The thought that he might be becoming accustomed to having it within him was somewhat disturbing in of itself, but he pushed that feeling aside to try to concentrate on what to do next. Frankly, he had no real idea what he should do. He couldn't go back to Atlantis yet; they'd kill it for sure. So where then could they go?

Carson found himself wishing that he'd taken the time to look through the Ancient database while he'd been back on Atlantis to find an uninhabited world as a backup plan, but he honestly hadn't even suspected that something like this could've happened while he was away. Carson tried to think harder.

His foot accidentally kicked aside some shards of glass and metal on the blackened gravel under his feet, and he looked down at it. He recognized the broken and misshapen form as what was left of a lantern from the village, and most of its remains were settled next to a small grove of burnt dead foliage. Shifting his gaze outward, he could see that he was nearly at the edge of the devastation that the fire caused, and that's when the patterns of the scorch-marks on the ground and trees around him began to make sense. The fire had started right here, probably with the very lantern that was lying at his feet.

And the villagers had had the gall to blame him! Carson's face reddened with anger, and if he hadn't been distracted by a sudden sound from the direction of the Stargate, he'd have been tempted to march right back to the village to argue this point. But the sound echoing through the trees was that of the Stargate being activated. Icy fear and adrenaline began to course through his veins as he realized that it was probably a team from Atlantis sent to follow him.

What would he do now?


	6. Chapter 6: Escape

They had to have the weapon that the Ancients had built to destroy the entities with them. His first instinct was to run as fast and as far as his legs would carry him into the forest, to hide from them until they gave up and went away, but he knew that he would never escape them. They had life-signs detectors and sensors that could track him, no matter how good a spot he found to hide in.

Running away was not an option, then. His next thought was that the villagers who worshipped the entities might defend him, but after their homes and the forest had been destroyed by a fire that, as a god, they believed he should have been able to prevent, he could not be sure that they wouldn't immediately turn him in, much less defend him.

That meant that the only possible way of saving the frightened entity, very likely now to be the last of its kind, was to win back the Stargate and defend the creature himself. Gratitude and hope radiated from it in his mind, and he was more determined than ever to see this through to the end. There was only one device and it had a very limited range, so they would have to get quite close to use it on him. There had to be a way of using that to his advantage.

Quickly and quietly, he hid among what was left of the trees and got as close as he dared, just close enough to them to be able to hear what they were saying. There were two teams, eight of them total, one of which was Colonel Sheppard's team and the other Major Lorne's team. He watched as Sheppard gave Lorne the device, ordering him to guard the Stargate while he, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney searched the forest.

"Are you sure that's such a great idea?" Rodney protested with a cringe of fear. "What if Carson decides to try to infect us with this alien plague, too? Shouldn't we take it with us? I was almost infected by Lt. Cadman before, you know, and I really don't want to go through that again."

He sounded very frightened, and it pained Carson to know that he had frightened his friend. The memory of what he did to Laura was still fresh in his mind, as well, but he was determined to see that the situation ended rightly, whether his friends manage to 'save' him or not.

"Stay behind if you really want to, Rodney," John replied with the tiniest hint of annoyance. "But I'm not going to let this thing controlling Carson get away. If it takes him through Stargate, we'll never see him again, and the next thing we know, we'll have ten more planets to cure. We just have to keep him away from the Stargate until the _Daedalus_ gets here. Then we'll be able to track him with the sensors, beam him into a holding cell, and cure him."

Rodney sighed, agreeing reluctantly, and began to follow the Colonel and the rest of the team through the forest. "How long is that going to be?"

"About nine hours."

Carson shuddered with anxiety and fear. He had only nine hours to figure out a way to save the creature, and he knew none of his friends would be convinced that they were doing the wrong thing by trying to 'cure' him. The first obvious place they would think to look for him would probably be in the village, and once there, they would probably be mobbed by angry villagers. He knew his best chance of making it through this would be to somehow earn back the trust his friends once placed in him. With the device McKay had built remaining near the Stargate, the chances that he would get in a few words to his friends, however futile, were better than his chances of getting past Lorne's team.

Sure enough, Sheppard and his team had begun walking along the charred gravel in the direction the village had once been. The markings on his skin resultant from the entity that possessed him didn't make for half-bad camouflage, and Carson found it easy enough to stealthily sneak past outcroppings of boulders and scorched shrubbery to make his way ahead of them, despite Ronon's keen instincts and hearing. He lied quietly in wait, hidden behind a tree, ready to ambush them.

"I don't like this," Ronon said nervously, covering as much of the team's rear as possible with his stunner. "He's watching us."

Just a few meters closer…

"Probably." Sheppard had taken the lead, and turned to reassure Ronon. "Just keep your eyes p—"

Finally, the Colonel's back was toward him. Leaping suddenly from the shadow of the tree, Carson grabbed for him. He'd managed to catch them off-guard, but John was a bit taller and military trained. Managing to throw his attacker over his hip, John almost managed to free himself from Carson's grip, but Carson had the advantage of strength and held onto his back. They went down together in a heap and began rolling down a sharp incline away from the path. Bolts of energy erupted from Ronon's stunner over their heads, but the shots went wide as the two men continued to roll and slide uncontrollably down the hill.

No matter how much John pushed and shoved and kicked at him, Carson would not let him go. The hill they'd tumbled down finally began to level off, and John made sure he came out on top, punching and shoving as hard as he could, but Carson still would not let him go. He was possessed of an impossible amount of strength, and no normal human should have been able to effortlessly endure the beating John gave him.

When John began to tire with exertion, Carson tightened his grip to emphasize the futility of continuing to struggle. John cursed at him, but was ultimately forced to concede.

"Finally gettin' tired, are we?" Carson said with frustration. "For a moment there, I thought ye'd not calm down at all."

"It doesn't matter," John replied defiantly. "It will only be a couple of minutes at most until Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney find us."

"John, if I'd wanted to hurt or kill ye, I wouldn't have let ye wail on me. All I have to do is touch your head, and you'll do anythin' I tell ye to."

"So why haven't you?" John emphasized his question with a fierce shove.

Carson sighed, shifting his grip. "Because I don't want to hurt ye… I want to talk."

John scowled with contempt, almost laughing aloud. "What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"This situation isn't acceptable for either of us," Carson insisted, ignoring the contempt in John's voice. "We don't want to die, and you want your doctor back. Can we not come to an agreement on a compromise?"

"I don't make deals with terrorists!" John spat angrily.

Carson tried to not to let himself be baited. "We're not terrorists!"

"You tried to destroy the city!"

"We did no such thing," he insisted, gritting his teeth. "We only allowed you to think so in order to escape!"

"You possessed my colleague and friend, violated his mind and body, and refused to release him!"

Carson began to tremble, desperate to defend them. "Ye don't understand! They were goin' to release me! They don't want to die. They just want a home, a place to live and prosper! Is that really so much to ask?"

"You killed the entire first civilization of humans that the Ancients seeded in this galaxy!"

The sheer gravity of the accusation shocked both him and the entity into speechlessness. Before he could formulate any kind of response, the boot-falls of two people running toward them in the forest could be heard, and the entity once more began to panic as it sensed time was running out. Carson stumbled backward, struggling to hold Colonel Sheppard still as he started to struggle against him again.

"Release him immediately!" Teyla demanded sternly, both she and Rodney training their weapons on him.

Carson spun around, still holding Colonel Sheppard between him and them, looking for Ronon and his blaster. He couldn't see or hear anything among the trees, but knew the Satedan had to be out there somewhere, covertly stalking them. Suddenly, a gun was pressed to the back of his head.

"She said, let him go," Ronon said angrily.

Thrusting his elbow into Carson's stomach as hard as he could, John took advantage of the surprise to try to break free from his captor, and nearly succeeded. But Carson ducked away from the barrel of Ronon's gun and, now holding John by the neck, pushed him into the gun's path instead.

"Back off," Carson ordered and, for the moment, Ronon reluctantly complied. "All those people in the village… They died because of us, because you took me away from here!"

"Not us," John wheezed breathlessly, still struggling against him. "Because… of you."

"No! We tried to help!" Carson's trembling was magnified by his guilt. "We never wanted anyone to die!"

"Is that why you killed all those people millennia ago?" John could sense the uncertainty in him and was purposefully pushing him to see how far he would go.

Carson's trembling stopped, as if his confidence had suddenly been renewed. "We didn't kill them. The Ancients killed them."

"That can't possibly be true!" Rodney shouted, his gun wavering. "The Ancients created their civilization and seeded them all over the galaxy! What reason could they possibly have to then kill them?"

"It certainly is possible, Rodney." Carson took a few steps back. "The Ancients killed them because they tried to defend us."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Rodney asked incredulously.

Carson's frustration was quickly turning to desperation. There simply wasn't any reasoning with them, especially when they wouldn't believe him when he spoke the truth. He took a few more steps back, then dropped Colonel Sheppard and promptly ran for his life. A blast from Ronon's stunner nearly caught him in the leg, but he did not let it stop him and kept running until he heard nothing behind him.

Just ahead of him were the remains of the burnt village.

* * *

Colonel Sheppard's team had followed Carson as far as they could, but they had lost him in the forest ahead. Ronon was a good tracker, but their adversary had already proved he could keep one step ahead. As they walked around the outskirts of where the village was, where the visibility through the trees was better, there arose an angry murmur of voices from the villagers picking through the rubble as the team was spotted. Colonel Sheppard hadn't really been expecting him and his team to be the source of their anger, and when the mobs of people began to move toward them, he couldn't help but take a few hesitant steps back toward the edge of the village's ruins.

"Kill them quickly, before they find the women and children!" an angry and fearful voice shouted over the din of murmuring.

People plowed forward toward them, faces etched with rage. Rodney grunted nervously and looked about ready to run for his life when Sheppard raised his P90, backpedalling to keep his distance from the crowd. "We're not here to hurt anyone! We just want to find our friend!"

They were not listening, and in just a few moments as Carson hid between a ruined tree and a pile of debris and watched, he knew that Colonel Sheppard and his team would be trampled by the angry mob. This was his chance. If he didn't stop this, nothing would convince them. Leaping from the concealed, shadowy corner into the shrinking space between the villagers and his friends, Carson held up his hands and shouted as loud as he could to be heard by everyone. "Stop!"

A few of them tripped and fell in the confusion, but the crowd obeyed. No one dared to speak or move a muscle, not even Colonel Sheppard or his team. Silence prevailed in the darkened forest.

"Please, stop this foolishness!" he begged, his voice suddenly gripped by overwhelming emotion. "Hurting them won't bring back those who died in the fire."

A priest, the one who had subdued Nalim, appeared at the front of the crowd. "What would you have us do then? Shall we simply allow them to kill the rest of us?"

Colonel Sheppard took that to be his cue. "We only came here for him."

"You started this fire!" the priest accused angrily. "Now, many men, women, and children are dead!"

"We did no such thing!" John shouted back.

"Enough! All of you!" Arguing and crying had erupted from everywhere at once, and Carson would not stand for it. "I saw the remains of a lantern at the edge of the fire's path through the forest. Whether it was accidental or not, none of us were even on the planet when the fire broke out. Someone from the village must be responsible."

Nalim broke through the mesmerized crowd. Desperately raising a 9mm pistol, which must have been taken from Colonel Sheppard's team earlier. He aimed it squarely at Carson's heart. "You let her die!"

Carson did not move. "Is that why you started the fire?"

He shuddered, tears streaming down his face. "Yes."

The crowd backed away fearfully, whispering with disbelief. They could hardly believe that one of their own was responsible for the fire that had killed so many people.

Nalim continued wearily, swaying from a mixture of exhaustion and drunkenness. "She died not long after they took you away. Do you deny that you could have saved her?"

"No," Carson replied softly, frowning. He remembered starting treatment on a middle-aged woman who had been very ill, but had not thought she was so frail and close to death. "But she's gone, and burning the forest could never have changed that."

"I dedicated my life to serving the Gods!" he cried, the hand holding the gun beginning to waver and shake. "Do you think I don't know how the Ancestors hated and despised them? I found and read the forbidden ancient scrolls that told me of their cleansing months ago. It is your fault that this has happened! My wife is gone, the forest is gone, the village is gone, and the 'Gods' that lived there are gone with them. All that's left now… is you."

The shot rang loudly in Carson's ears for what felt like an eternity, and when the first shot did not send him to the ground, several more shots echoed through the stillness of the forest. Carson lunged, grabbing at the gun and ripping it from Nalim's hands, sending it flying into the ashes of scorched grass some distance away. Tears stung his eyes, and a coppery taste settled on his tongue as each breath brought with it a torrent of blood into his lungs and chest.

The gruesome sight and admission of guilt had stunned most of the people present, but once he'd been disarmed, several men attempted to grab Nalim. The priest was quick, though, and managed to duck between them. In his frantic scrabbling as he attempted to escape into forest, Nalim slipped on a patch of loose, wet ash… and accidentally impaled himself on the charred, but sharp slivers of a plank of wood from one of the homes he'd burned. His body slid limply into the blackened muck, unmoving, and black ash that had been stirred into the air began to settle around his prone form. No one mourned his fate.

Carson had lost a lot of blood as the entity worked furiously to save his life, and although the spigot was being shut for the most part, it would take time for his body to recover from the trauma of being shot three times in the chest. He struggled to remain standing, but his knees buckled despite the effort, and he fell to his knees in the drying, blackened mud.

"Master!" the old priest called, shaken from his reverie and arriving at Carson's side. "Are you all right?"

He managed a nod, but could not prevent his voice from sounding hollow and devoid of feeling. He simply could not allow himself to feel anything at the moment. "I… I'll be fine."

Many people sank down onto their knees, and many more began to prostrate themselves as they did in prayer. The old priest's voice cracked as he too knelt, his face etched with shame and despair. "I… We should never have doubted you, Master. I am ashamed to have thought that you had abandoned us. I humbly offer my sincerest apologies, but... my own transgressions against you, against the Gods, can never be undone."

Carson looked up at him gravely and saw the priest's confused expression. "It no longer matters. The forest and your village are burnt to the ground, and we no longer have the strength to guide you."

"I do not understand, Master," the priest whispered pleadingly, as if he had offended Carson. "Have we angered you? Have we become unworthy of your protection?"

"No." Carson flinched, frowning. How could he explain it to them? "You do not understand. The others are gone, killed by the fire. Despite your belief, we are not gods, nor are we all-powerful or omnipotent. We no longer have the strength to protect you."

"But… what shall we do without your guidance?" the old man begged, near to the verge of panic.

He was so tired. Carefully, he sat back against a tree. Blood that had leaked into his lungs began to drip from the corner of his mouth, and he no longer had a desire to hinder it. All purpose in the universe had left him. Carson gazed neutrally into the faces of Colonel Sheppard's team, who'd been all but forgotten by the villagers and were still standing at the edge of the burnt debris that was once the village.

"We ask one last service of you," Carson said solemnly.

The priest composed himself, bowing respectfully. "Anything, Master."

"Let them kill me."


	7. Chapter 7: Redemption

A/N: Here we go! Last chapter! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free leave a review with any kind of criticisms you wish. I am eager to know what my readers did and didn't like, and I love all kinds of criticism. :) I'll have to see if I can't finish another one of my fics soon...

* * *

The priest took a step back in shock, struck speechless by the request for several long moments. "No, Master! You cannot simply allow them to kill you!"

Carson sighed resignedly. "We are tired of running. They will destroy us regardless of where we go, but here our death will have served a purpose to your people."

A multitude of expressions passed over the face of every villager in the crowd, and after a long minute, the priest calmly and determinedly stepped between Carson and Colonel Sheppard's team. "Whether you believe they are gods or not is unimportant. If you wish to kill the Gods that I freely chose to worship and dedicated my life to serving, you will have to get by me first."

Carson gazed in utter amazement and horror as the group of villagers began to gather around the brave priest until all but those who were too injured to stand stood between them. Guilt and flashbacks tormented him, and panic drove him to try to stand.

"No..." he tried to object, struggling to stand up and try to push through the wall of bodies protecting him until he had only enough strength left to protest with words. "No! Not again... Don't die for us! Please, Colonel Sheppard! Kill us if you must, but do not harm them!"

The last thing John expected was for so many people to feel so strongly about their Gods that they would die to protect a man who was possessed by them, and then for these 'gods' of theirs to be willing to submit to an execution so that the villagers they protected would come to no harm. Would he be able to execute in cold blood a sentient life form, however alien, that these people had come to love? A life form that may have protected these people from diseases, injuries, and the Wraith for hundreds of years? A life form that he had become accustomed to hating only because another like it had tried to destroy Atlantis?

Now that he thought about it, wouldn't it be truly foolish to destroy such a life form that seemed to so willingly protect and nurture the people of this world to the point they would die to protect it? Simply considering how long it had been around, who knew what kinds of secrets they could discover from it about diseases of the Pegasus galaxy they hadn't even encountered yet, or even the Wraith?

And what if Carson was right? Did the Ancients really kill the first humans they'd seeded because they tried to protect this thing, just as these villagers here were doing? Was he really about to make the same mistake that the Ancients made so long ago? What if all of this really was just the result of a misunderstanding?

The Ancients may not have had a doubt, but he did. It would be inhuman to have to kill all these people just to destroy a potential threat to the city, which they weren't even in any more. Slowly, John lowered his P90. "I just want Carson back. _Now_. If you all want to risk your lives in order to protect that... that thing inside him, I suppose that's your prerogative."

The priest seemed satisfied, but as he pushed through the crowd to get to Carson, he turned back quickly with concern etched on his face. "He is unconscious."

John sighed, visibly frustrated. He knew it just wouldn't be that easy.

"Please, do not be concerned," the priest tried to reassure him, which didn't work all that well. "We we care for him until he is restored and awake, and I give you my word that your friend will be returned to you then."

"All the same, I would like to bring a medical team here to assess his condition and treat him," the Colonel insisted, but when the priest stood up and gazed at him suspiciously, he could hardly believe that he'd just conceded to these people's demands. "Alright... I give you my word that the doctors won't kill it so long as it does not provoke us."

They each had their suspicions about the other, but the priest reluctantly nodded in agreement.

* * *

When Carson finally woke hours later, night had fallen. He opened his eyes to the sight of fire blazing in a pit surrounded with rocks, and beyond the rocks sat villagers and doctors and soldiers from Atlantis all chatting together. It was a curious sight for him, considering that the last time he'd seen them together, they'd almost been at each other's throats. A blanket that had been placed over him slid onto the ground, and it must have been just audible enough to draw their attention, because the next thing he knew, he was surrounded by people all asking him if he was alright. Rodney, Teyla, and Colonel Sheppard were among them, and Ronon was also visible helping to keep watch over their camp.

"What happened?" he asked, confused, and tried to focus on Colonel Sheppard. He could still feel the entity in the back of his mind. "It's still here..."

"Yeah, it is," Colonel Sheppard confirmed, making his contempt for the entity quite apparent. "Our hosts here were quite insistent that we not kill that thing inside you, although I still think it's a mistake to just let it go."

Carson frowned sternly. "Don't forget who you're talkin' to, Colonel."

"Right," he said with a smile quirking at one corner of his mouth. "I figured you were still in there. Well, it's obvious I don't trust you, and you definitely don't trust me, but your protectors and I came to an agreement."

"My protectors?" he asked curiously.

Rodney had been sitting back, munching semi-contentedly on a power bar while they spoke. "They promised us Carson would be freed, and in exchange, he doesn't kill every one of them, and then you."

Teyla was next, but she at least she wore an expression of sympathy. "They are going to start rebuilding their village tomorrow."

"And in case you hadn't noticed, so far I have yet to see their end of our bargain fulfilled," John informed him angrily.

"I don't understand," Carson said, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Why didn't ye kill us when ye had the chance?"

Leaning forward, John gave Carson a solemn, serious look. "I'm a solder, not a killer. The Ancients obviously didn't give you guys the benefit of the doubt, but I'm going out on a limb here trusting those villagers to keep their word, trusting you, and against my better judgment, too."

There was a long silence while he allowed the entity to think hard about his words until Rodney finally broke the silence. "I don't get it. What was the point of doing all of this anyway? Why do you care so much about a bunch of primitive humans?" And when Teyla shot him a stern look, "Hey, I'm just asking an honest question here."

"Why do _you_ care so much?" Carson shot back defensively. "You make it sound like only humans should like exploring the galaxy or want to help people."

Rodney begrudgingly shut his mouth. Another long silence followed, broken this time by Teyla. "What are you going to do now?"

Carson let out a long sigh before answering. "I don't know."

John scowled again. It went against his nature to be nice to someone he didn't quite trust. "Well, the people here seem to like you since you did so much for them over the years. You might think about staying."

"Why?" Carson asked, a little sadly. "We are no longer their gods, and we do not desire their worship. We never did."

Teyla placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You do not need worshippers, but perhaps you would do well with some friends."

"We all need friends," John stated, echoing her sentiments.

"Would you be our friends?" Carson could hardly bring himself to meet Colonel Sheppard's eyes.

Rodney squirmed. "That might take some getting used to."

"You really want us to be your friends, even after we wanted to kill you?" John asked hesitantly,

Carson looked up, his face full of emotion. "He would trust any one of you with his life. We have been running and hiding for so long and were betrayed and hurt so many times, we'd almost forgotten what that was like. It feels good, doesn't it?"

Rodney and Teyla sat back in companionable silence, and a weak smile was the only response John could muster. Carson leaned back, his skin shimmering faintly in the firelight, and his eyes closed. A moment later, John stood to leave Carson to his rest, knowing he would see his new friends again some day, and Rodney and Teyla soon followed. When they had all finally left him to get some much-needed rest, Carson was truly alone for the first time in almost a week.

* * *

Carson usually preferred to eat with company, but for the last week or so, silence and solitude had been his preference. He'd been poked, prodded, tested, and re-tested so many times that he'd lost count not long after returning to the infirmary in Atlantis. When asked what it was like to be possessed by gods, he could only bring himself to say that it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before and with luck something he will never experience again.

This day, he'd decided to brave the commissary for brunch, a time when at least all the senior officers should usually be on duty. However, as luck would have it, it was the third meal that week he'd managed to pick a time during which Lt. Laura Cadman had also chosen to eat her meal. The first two times, he simply wasn't prepared to face her and quickly left before he hoped she had a chance to spot him. Today, though, she had already seen him coming in. It was unavoidable now, but he still dreaded what he knew he should say to her.

"I know you've been avoiding me," Laura said, suddenly standing next to his table with her tray. "Do you mind if I sit down with you?"

It was a little sooner than he'd hoped. "Hello, Laura. Actually, I think I'd rather be alone today."

Laura sat down anyway. "You've been eating here alone for a whole week now, and I wish you'd stop beating around the bush. Why have you been avoiding me? More than usual, I mean?"

He stammered, trying to think of something to say.

"Oh, come on, Carson," she moaned, ruthlessly stabbing at her food with her fork. "Is this about what you did to me while those alien entities possessed you? Because if it is, I wish you'd just apologize already so we can move past that."

A slightly horrified look passed over Carson's features. "I wish it was that easy."

"It is that easy." Laura put down her fork. "You don't have to forget all about it to move past it. That's not what you should be trying to do at all, because I'm never going to forget what happened to me, and you are never going to forget what happened to you. I learned this lesson the hard way too, and we can't change the bad things that happen to us, Carson. Everyone does what they can with the cards they're dealt in life, for better or for worse. The only thing you need to worry about is how you're going to allow this to affect your life."

Carson thought about it carefully while Laura continued eating. After a few minutes, he began to realize that she was right. "I'm sorry."

She put down her fork again. "There's really no need to apologize. It wasn't your fault."

Talking about it was getting at little easier for him, at least. "I have to admit, though, that it gave me a whole new perspective about the entity that possessed you a while back. It must have been horrible for you, knowing what you'd done to me. And I'm sorry I've behaved like such an arse since."

Laura smiled with understanding, then sighed. "I think I can forgive you for behaving like an ass. But these scars are going to be with you a lot longer than the scars left on your skin, and those aren't going to start fading for at least two months."

"Thank you, Laura," Carson said, genuinely appreciative of her advice. "You've been very kind."

Now finished with her meal, Laura rose from her seat and picked up her tray. "Actually, I think I've just got a big mouth. But thank you for the compliment."

Leaning down to deposit a small token of affection in the form of a peck on his cheek, Laura smiled and turned to leave. "I hope we can have lunch together again sometime."

Carson watched her affectionately as she left the commissary and smiled to himself after she had gone, having decided that he didn't want this experience to ever affect how he thought of her again.

--THE END--


End file.
